


Better Worlds, Better Lives

by Wolkemesser



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Multi, Wild West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18663850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolkemesser/pseuds/Wolkemesser
Summary: Aminatou grows tired of seeing all the misery in the multiverse, and enlists some help in creating alternate timelines where the many star-crossed romances of the Magic: the Gathering universe can exist in peace and happiness.(A collection of entries for MtG Month of the Ship, days 21-27)





	1. Chapter 1

“I hate this timeline.”

Teferi looked up from the tome he was studying. Aminatou had her arms crossed in front of her, staring sullenly down at the city below them. Its founders  had obviously meant for the cliffs that rose above it to either side to be its primary form of protection, but, as evidenced by the small army of ogres and a rock hydra laying siege to it, the terrain came with its own complications.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“No one gets to be happy.” She pointed down at the valley, where the hydra was snatching soldiers off the battlements. “It’s always some fight or some disaster. Some stupid invasion or an ice age or something dumb where people die or suffer. Even the nice planes have to have darkness or sadness in them.”

“Hmmm…It’s not all sad endings though, is it?” Teferi closed his book and banished it to a pocket timeline. “Even dark places have their heroes.” He gestured at the city walls, where a single figure with a blazing white sword was running along the battlements, slicing heads off one after the other.

“That’s not the same thing.” Aminatou stomped her foot. “Why should so many other people suffer just so one or two people get to be heroes? It’s interesting once or twice but it seems like every single stupid timeline is like that.”

Teferi started to say something, considered the entirety of his life experiences over multiple centuries, and simply nodded in agreement.

“Are we going to help them?”

Teferi shook his head. “Give it…thirty seconds. They need to see the hydra defeated by one of their own. Otherwise they abandon the city and the chain of events that follows makes the timeline even worse.”

Aminatou scowled. “Rotten timeline.”

 

** ** **

 

Five minutes later they stood over on the decimated battlements, awed soldiers gaping up as Teferi shook hands with the hero. Further along the valley. The remaining ogres were retreating. The rest had been frozen in time by Teferi’s stasis spells, or had been shifted to timelines where they became bakers and carpenters instead of raiders. Aminatou peered down into what she could see of the city, where broken soldiers lay in rows, cried over by their mourning husbands and wives.

Aminatou turned and prodded Teferi’s arm with her staff. “I’m going to go now. I want to see some futures where things are just…nice. Can you help me?”

“Hmmm, if I can.” Teferi stroked his chin. “What did you have in mind?”

“A time spell. If you can augment my fateshifts…” One of Aminatou’s butterflies lit on the end of Teferi’s staff. “I can explore a timeline with some happier outcomes. Maybe worlds where it isn’t all magic and tragedy all the time.”

“That sounds…like a reckless application of our powers.” Teferi pursed his lips. “I like it. let’s give it a try.”

As he poured temporal magic into the butterfly on his staff, Aminatou strolled along the battlement humming to herself.

“You might enchant a few more of them while you’re at it. If the first one works…”

“IF the first one works,” Teferi said with a mock sternness, “come find me and we’ll make some more.” He grinned to himself. “This reminds me of Urza’s legacy project…a potential work of many lifetimes.”

“Many lifetimes!” Aminatou pumped her arms in the air.

Teferi chuckled. “Immortality certainly is something else, isn’t it? I don’t know what I’d do without it.” He opened his hands, and the butterfly fluttered out, trailing wisps of blue mana. “There. Whose life will you be re-creating first?”

“Hmmm…” Aminatou crossed her arms. “You talk about that Urza a lot. Maybe him.”

The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC. 


	2. Grinding Gears and Coffee Beans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urza and Kayla always struck me as well-matched, if only they'd had a better context to foster their relationship in, and more time before their arranged marriage.

Kayla made a face. “Golgothian Latte?”

“Yes!” Urza’s voice was bright with excitement. “It came to me in a dream. I think the new machine will be able to mix the ingredients well enough that the customers won’t notice the change in texture.”

Kayla looked down the list of ingredients her boyfriend had cobbled together, a single eyebrow raising higher and higher with each line.

“Urza…this would kill all our customers.” She folded the note and placed it on the counter. “The café hasn’t been open long enough to deal with that sort of bad publicity.”

“Hmmmm…” Urza looked up from the percolator he had disassembled behind the counter. “Fewer spices?”

“Fewer spices.”

“I don’t know how you do that,” Mishra muttered from the other side of the counter. “If I tried to help him patch up one of these machines he’d ignore me and blow himself up.”

Urza shrugged. “Kayla knows coffee, so I defer to her. If you knew anything about machines,  I’d defer to you.”

“I literally work in tech.” Mishra tapped an ID badge on the counter. “I literally get paid to work. With. Machines.”

Kayla crossed her arm. “Unless you’re going to use some of that money to get a coffee, stop holding up the line.”

“Line?” Mishra turned around and swept his hand around the coffeeshop. “There’s no one here-”

He paused, just noticing the small child in the white dress standing patiently behind him.

“Oh…uh, sorry..” He turned sheepishly to Kayla, giving her a toothy, guilty grin. “Black coffee and a Muffin?”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “$20”

Mishra glanced up at the chalkboard hung above the counter. “I…uh…I don’t think that adds up.”

“You’re paying for the patrons you’ve held up.”

Grumbling, Mishra fished the money out of his pocket and slid it to Kayla. She went to pour his drink, and called to Urza.

“Get your brother a pastry. Nothing too nice.”

Mishra threw his hands up. “Oh, come on!”

Urza slid open the display counter and pulled out a chocolate walnut muffin. Mishra’s favorite.  Kayla let that go; as irritating as Mishra could be, she was happier to see that he and Urza could get along again, albeit with a regular helping of ribbing from both parties. 

She capped his drink and set it down in front of him. 

“One coffee, black. And if you see that intern of yours today, tell her to stop distracting Tawnos when he’s making deliveries.”

“You need a less distractible delivery boy,” Mishra said, winking at Urza.

Urza cleared his throat. “Tawnos has got a bright mind; I’m sure he finds Ashnod’s research very interesting.”

“Research…” Mishra rolled his eyes, this time at Kayla. “I’ll see you both for dinner this weekend. And sorry to you, little miss,” he added, to the small girl as he left.“

Kayla peered over the counter at the girl. "What would you like, honey?”

“Mmmm…I’m still thinking.”

“Okay, you take your time.” Kayla took a look around the store to confirm no-one else was around, and leaned up against the back counter, exhaling deeply.

“What’s on your mind?” Urza was back at work with the percolator. He hadn’t lifted his head.

“We made it another month. Rent is paid and we’ve got a bit left over.”

“That’s good.”

Kayla nodded. “Your new machine has been a big help. We’ve got our waiting time down to one-half of the wait at BK Coffee, and your foam-art-drone has gotten us some great reviews online.”

“I’m happy it’s helped.” He paused, a small torch raised over a component of the disassembled percolator. He set the tool down and looked up. “But what’s on your mind right now?”

“I had lunch with my dad last week.” She pulled off her manager’s cap and rubbed her temple. “He was going on and on about how the peak tourist season is ending and how gimmick shops like ours never make it out of the first few slump months of the year. I don’t know. It…it got to me.”

“Are you having second thoughts about the shop?”

“I’m always having second thoughts about the shop.”

Urza nodded. “Your father isn’t as good a businessman as he thinks. He inherited a company too big to fail. BK will keep making money regardless of what he does or doesn’t do, and he thinks that makes him a clever businessman. You have more good ideas for this small shop than he’s ever had for his franchise his entire life.”

Kayla smiled behind her hat. Urza didn’t believe in wasted words, and as frustrating as a taciturn boyfriend could be from time to time, it was comforting to know that when he spoke, he meant what he said.

“Thank you. That doesn’t mean we’ll succeed, though. We knew this was going to be a risk but…well, I worry that I’ve led you onto a leaking ship sometimes.”

“I was wasted there too.” Urza stood and put an arm around Kayla. “Your father wanted me making machines to spy on warehouse workers and servers. Time clocks and surveillance cameras. Now I can make the machines I want to make. Things that make people happy.”

Kayla wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and lay her forehead against his cheek, enjoying the motion of his beard as he spoke.

“And even though you aren’t making as much. Well, as long as it doesn’t bother you…”

I’m not working for Bin-Kroog Coffee. No matter how much dad wants to pay me. “

Urza patted her head. "You’ve got…we’ve got too much potential to look back. You’ll have an empire bigger than him one day if you want, or just the best corner coffee store in the world. Whatever you want. And I’ll support you all the way.”

“Urza…”

“Ummm…”

Kayla jumped, and gripped Urza tighter, lifting him an inch off his feet. The girl in the white dress was still there, a small pile of change in front of her on the counter.

“One milk tea please. And a cookie.”

“On the house, dear.” Urza scooped the change (enough for maybe half a cookie) off the table and deposited it in her palm. “What kind of cookie would you like?”

“Peanut butter chocolate!”

Urza went to grab the cookie while Kayla placed the tea on the counter, and started pouring in the milk.

“This is a very lovely store,” The girl said with a smile, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Thank you.” Kayla gave the girl her real, non-customer-service smile. “I hope you like the tea as much as the décor.”

The girl took the cup in both hands and took a sip. She had several ribbons in her hair shaped like brown butterflies, that looked like they were flapping their wings when she moved her head. Urza came back with the cookie, then went back to upgrading the percolator.

The girl leaned up and cupped her hands. “Are you happy? Working here, I mean.”

Kayla took a slow look around the shop. At the carved stools and benches, taken from Urza’s old workshop. At the pastries and other goods she’d learned to make from her mother years ago, and finally at her boyfriend, hunched over a pot with that adorable look of serene concentration on his face.

“Yes, more than I’ve ever been.”

 

_The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC._


	3. Dragon Wing Gang

“Sheriff! Sheriff!”

Yasova heard the shout, clear and urgent, all the way from her desk in the back room of the county office. As a younger woman she would have come blazing out the door in seconds. With the experience of years, she knew to gauge the level of danger before leaping to action, and to gauge based on more than a single panicked voice.

So she readied herself, straightening her badge of office and tightening the straps of her belt. A minute later, Baiva, her deputy, rushed into the office, rambling and breathless from running.

“Sheriff, it’s…it’s the Dragon Wing Gang! They’re heading straight…straight for town, and they’ve got the big boss with them!” 

Yasova nodded, sliding bullets into her bandolier. “Are the folks up the hill still getting ready for the festivities?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Go run and make sure they stay calm. And the big boss…how far away is she?”

“A couple minutes, I’d guess.”

Yasova stood and hefted her rifle over one shoulder. The “Dragonclaw” was as much a sign of the sheriff’s office in the town as the three-clawed badge pinned to Yasova’s breast was. Long as a grown woman was tall, with a dark wood handle and a barrel etched with dragons in flight, it was handed down to each new leader to hold the office.

“Well then, let’s give her a nice warm welcome.”

Yasova’s boots thudded crisply across the wooden deck of the county office, each step punctuated by the jangle of her spurs. She marched straight down the steps and onto the dusty road, staring down the slight slope of main street toward the cluster of riders charging toward the town on horseback.

Town folk and visitors from other counties stood nervously on either side of the street. Bald-headed traveling monks from the Jeskai county whispered amongst themselves as Yasova passed. Silumgar merchants with snakeskin boots and tiger furs clutched at their coinpurses. A small girl with a white dress than Yasova could not place skulked outside the general store, nibbling a cookie. Quite the audience, but they gave the sheriff all the space she needed.

The high noon sun made the frontier grasslands below glow with a golden light. The main road through town led up from the lowland fields and exited out the other end on a path toward the grazing and foraging lands among the foothills. The gateway to Temur County territory.

Yasova’s own corner of the world to protect.

The riders slowed to a trot as they passed the first buildings in town. About a block away from the county office, the group stopped, and their leader swung down from the saddle to surveil the town.

“You’re keeping the place looking real nice, Yasova!”

Alesha “Big Boss” Deathgrin pulled off her hat. Her long hair fell in braids all the way down to her belt, which holstered the two biggest six-shooters Yasova had ever laid eyes on. Even from a distance, Yasova could feel the other woman’s eyes cutting into her.

Alesha started forward, long confident strides carrying her swiftly up the main street.

“Why so quiet, sheriff? I thought this was a party!”

“You’re all a bit early for the spring feast,” Yasova called back, digging the heel of her boot into the dirt. “The townsfolk are still making preparations up in the hills.”

“Wanted to make sure we didn’t miss a second of the fun,” Alesha called back. Even from the distance, the white of her wide-toothed smile was evident. She stopped in her tracks, about twenty paces from Yasova. “Hadn’t gotten an invitation, can you imagine that? What kind of neighbors don’t invite you to the biggest shindig of the year?”

“Neighbors who know you’ll show up without one.”

Alesha’s laugh was a sharp bark, one that quieted the last of the town folk’s murmurs. Her grin widened. Yasova returned the smile with a tight-lipped smirk. The sun was casting short shadows on everyone out in the road, and Yasova could feel small beads of sweat starting to form on the back of her neck and start the slow roll down her collar.

A vulture-aven screeched somewhere overhead and out of sight.

Alesha broke the standoff, sprinting all-out toward Yasova. The sheriff tensed. She could see the townsfolk on either side of the street do the same.

Five feet from where Yasova stood, Alesha hollered and leapt at her, throwing both arms around her neck. Yasova wrapped her free arm around the shorter woman and pulled her in for a kiss and embrace that nearly knocked the sheriff off of her feet.

The town around then erupted into cheers and shouts. Alesha’s gang was hollering as well, as they made their slow way further into town. It was all noise to Yasova, her attention firmly set on the warm lips and strong hands of her nomad lover.

“Glad you could join us,” she managed at last, when they finally pulled their faces apart.

“Glad you’re having us back after last time.” Alesha squeezed Yasova around the waist. “I thought for sure we’d been too rowdy at the last spring festival for your tastes.”

“Never rowdy enough, personally speaking.” Yasova pulled Alesha into a side-hug and started off toward the stables. “Whole town’s been nervous that you wouldn’t bring enough of that spiced fig-liquor this year.”

Alesha barked out another laugh. “No fear there. I’ve got riders half a day behind us with enough to drown all your mountains in.”

They turned past the general store, and Alesha dropped her hat on the head of the girl in the strange white dress. The girl let out a giggle of delight and grabbed at the brim. Yasova turned around for half a second to get a better look at the little stranger, but the girl had already disappeared into the crowd with her prize.

No matter. Yasova ran a thumb along one of Alesha’s braids. The town had a whole night of fun ahead of them, and she had her sweetheart at her side, at least for a little while.

_The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC._


	4. The Elf from S.W.A.R.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Spies AU. I thought Fonn and Jarad deserved some nice content, after the events of the past year.)

It was supposed to be a simple job. Infiltrate the party. Find his way to the upper floors. Locate the target’s office. Plant the listening devices in discreet locations. Steal the documents. Leave.

Easy enough, assuming Jarad was the only special agent in the place during the operation.

He wasn’t.

“Hello Vod Savo. Enjoying your evening?”

Jarad froze. His hand was halfway behind a portrait in the host’s side hallway, planting a bug. He turned and found another elf watching him, hands on her hips. She was wearing a dark green pantsuit with a white bow tie, a grim smirk on her face.

“I was until a moment ago, Zunich. What are _you_ doing here?”

The other elf snorted. “A better job at being inconspicuous, that’s what. I didn’t realize S.W.A.R.M. was still sending assassins after my client.”

“Always so presumptuous.” Jarad started to slip past Fonn, but she planted her palm against the wall by his head, caging him in.

“Am I wrong?” She was shorter than him, but her shoulders were broader and Jarad knew that she knew she could overpower him if he tried to make a break for it. “Last time I caught you snooping around a party you were trying to kill St. Bayul.” She also new very well that Jarad always carried a necrotic poison on his person for emergencies, yet she never gave any sign of being afraid of him. Always vexing, that.

“You are, as a matter of fact.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What then? Convince me, or the guards will have you out of here on your ass faster than you can say ‘Gorgon.’”

Jarad made a face of exaggerated exasperation. “Do you write all that inspired dialogue in your spare time? I guess it must be boring just standing around while you wait for old loxodons to need a tissue or whatever it is you do for them.”

“Answer the question.”

Jarad shot another glance down the hallway. Empty. He sighed.

Might as well. Fonn Zunich was a pain in his side, but she could keep a secret.

“Karlov is buying up the Mizidek lot downtown. S.W.A.R.M. needs that land to remain unincorporated. I need to find the bills of sale and sabotage-”

He cut off as one of the host’s guards rounded the corner. The next thing he knew Fonn had pulled him down into a rough kiss, her hands moving to cover the sides of his face. He dropped the poisoned needle in his hands out of shock.

“Oh, uh…excuse me.” The grey-skinned guard backed out of the hallway and ducked back into the ballroom. Fonn released Jarad’s face.

“What was _that_ for?” he hissed. His heart was beating much faster than it should have. Much faster than he would have liked while trying to pull off a delicate operation.

“Relax, creepy-crawly. What do you think a guard will find more suspicious, two people arguing in a secluded hallway, or two drunk socialite’s having snuck away to get intimate?”

“I don’t see how one is better than the other,” Jarad muttered.

“This is better because now no one has seen your face yet.” Fonn reached into a vest pocket and produced a small gold mask. “Here, it’s a masquerade for goodness’ sake.”

Jarad scowled and produced his own mask. “Give me _some_ credit.”

“A beetle? People will remember that. If I’m going to help you then you need to wear something less conspicuous. I’m here in an official capacity, remember?”

“Why _are_ you helping me?”

“So many questions. Do you want my help or not?”

Jarad sighed. Might as well make use of an ally, inconvenient as they might be.

“Fine.” He started toward the ballroom. “What’s the security situation inside?”

“Laughable. Most of the house guard are watching the roof, after that stunt Etrata pulled at the last ball. Down here it’s just the regular RCPD plainsclothes guards, plus that brunette from the tenth district precinct.”

Jarad frowned. “Lavinia? She’s thwarted three S.W.A.R.M. operations in the last month alone. She’s no joke.”

“She is when she’s preoccupied with the evening entertainment.” They stepped into the ballroom and Fonn pointed toward the stage. A lounge singer was slinking across the stage in a red and black evening gown, a decorative metal mask in the shape of a skull covering half her face. Sure enough, arrester Lavinia had found a table right by the stage, and was paying little to no attention to the rest of the party around her.

“That’s lucky,” Jarad muttered.

“Lucky or a competent guard got her hands on the security detail planned for tonight and made sure that the hosts hired a singer of her choice.”

“Um…why?”

Fonn shrugged. “Bodyguarding _is_ boring sometimes. I need entertainment too.” She nodded at the stairs leading to the next level, where most of the RCPD were standing around. “What’s your plan for the boys in red and white? _I’m_ not even allowed, and my client’s up there.”

“Not much of a bodyguard then, are you?”

“Bayul’s still alive, isn’t he?”

“Sure. Watch this.” Jarad released a small spy drone from his sleeve. The small mechanical drone buzzed discreetly around the ballroom floor before coming to rest on the back of one of the server’s heads.

“Three, two, one, sting.”

The server yelped as a small metal spur jabbed into his ear. He turned to swat at the air behind him, and hit one of an ogre, one of the burlier guests. The guest shouted in outrage and swung a fist at the server. In seconds there was a small skirmish underway, and the RCPD were running down the stairs to intervene.

“Aggravated assault.” Jarad gave a small mock sigh. “Such a senseless act of violence.”

“Very slick.” Fonn flicked Jarad’s ear, and he felt a small chill run down his back. “Now let’s go.”

They mounted the stairs quickly, ducking around the room where the more distinguished guests were gathered, and slipped into the private wing of the mansion.

The door to the next flight of stairs was guarded by two more of the grey-skinned guards. Both bored-looking, and both seemingly unarmed.

“Hrm.” Jarad frowned. “I dropped my poison downstairs; that would’ve helped.”

“Your what?”

“It’s…not important. Let me think a minute.”

“No time. Give me your mask.” Fonn didn’t even wait for Jarad to reply, digging her hand into his tuxedo pocket and pulling out the golden thrull-face.

“What are you-”

Fonn slid on the mask and sprinted up the last flight of stairs. The guards snapped to attention, and one of them produced a small tazer. Fonn grabbed it out of his hand and chopped him across the neck. The other guard she kicked in the jaw, knocking him out cold before he even hit the ground.

Fonn pulled the mask off and raised an eyebrow at Jarad, and pulled the trigger of the tazer. Electricity crackled between the points.

“Pretty stunning, huh?”

“You’ve been practicing,” Jarad observed.

“Yeah, but… _stunning_ , get it?”

“Yes, you’ve always been stunning.”

Fonn rolled her eyes yet again, but this time with a small blush. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Tell me why you’re helping. I’m not going any further until you do.”

“Are you serious? Aren’t you supposed to be a professional spy?”

Jarad crossed his arms.

“Fine. St. Bayul’s trying to buy that land to build an orphanage, but Karlov is price-gouging him. If it reverts to unincorporated land…”

“Ah, the non-profit Selesnyans get the land for a bargain.”

“Bingo.”

Jarad uncrossed his arms. “The sisters won’t like that. They want the land for S.W.A.R.M.”

“Look, I know it’s not exactly in the spirit of your mission-”

“Then again, the sisters hired me to sabotage the Orzhov, not you.” Jarad shrugged. “If they want another favor they’ll have to pay me triple for it. I wish your elephant priest all the luck in the world.”

He caught the grin on Fonn’s face in the corner of his eye as he passed her, and allowed himself a small one of his own.

The rest of the way was quiet. They passed up one more staircase down two hallways, and started to round the final corner before the door to Karlov’s study-

“Damn.”

Jarad put out a hand and waved Fonn back against the wall.

“What is it?”

“Guard drone.”

Fonn peeked around the corner.“ Sure enough, a robotic sentry stood in front of the patriarch’s office. A roving gun turret on legs.

"Damn,” Fonn agreed, pressing back against the wall. Can you disable it?“

"Not from that far away. Not without my bow. I used all my bugs downstairs.”

“We need a distraction. Something really unusual to grab its attent-”

“Excuse me!”

They both leapt back against the wall, Jarad pressing Fonn against it as he made a vague attempt to shield her from the guest who’d surprised them.

“Thank you!” A small, dark-skinned girl wearing a white dress and a coyboy hat skipped past them down the hallway, passing right in front of the guard. Several butterflies followed in her wake. The sentry turned its head as she passed, apparently perplexed as Jarad and Fonn were.

“Um, little miss?” The guard’s metallic voice was surprisingly soft. “You can’t…oh good grief.”

The little girl had already disappeared down another hallway. The sentry started off after her, buzzing irritably.

“Huh.” Fonn leaned out from behind the corner. “Well, that was…lucky.”

“Indeed.”

“Um…”

Jarad realized, belatedly, that he still had his hand on Fonn’s shoulder. He whipped it away quickly.

“Saved you again, Zunich.”

They approached the door and examined the keypad next to it.

“Hm. Too reliant by far on his guards.” Jarad reached into his pocket. "This will be a piece of cake.“ He withdrew his last bug and placed it over the keypad. The bug chirped and clicked for several seconds.

The keypad beeped, and the door slid open.

"Nice job, crawler.” Fonn thumped him on the back. “Let’s make this quick.”

They stepped into the study. It was a surprisingly small space, but comfortable, full of red velvet with grey and gold trimming. In the middle was a large mahogany desk, and right behind it…

“Good evening.”

A woman, dressed in black and gold, with a cane in one hand and a small, hairless cat in her lap.

Jarad drew a knife, and Fonn pulled a gun out from under her vest.

“Ah, ah.” The woman lay the tip of her cane on a red button at the edge of the desk. “One press and a houseful of guards descends on this room. I believe it’s only polite for guests to introduce themselves.”

Fonn and Jarad exchanged looks.

“No? Well I’m Teysa Karlov, and I must say,” She turned the computer on the desk around with one hand. “You’ve been the highlights of the evening. My uncle’s parties are _never_ this good.”

The screen showed several video camera feeds of the house. The ballroom brawl, only just getting under control. The VIP guests, watching from the balcony. The two guards unconscious by the doors.

“Um, we can explain.” Fonn had gone pale. “You see-”

“St. Bayul and his guard dog had nothing to do with this,” Jarad cut in. “I threatened to kill him if she didn’t come along and aid me.”

A bit of color returned to Fonn’s face.

“Ooooh, you two _are_ cute.” Teysa spun the screen back around. “No worries, I’ve deleted everything with either of you on it. Nothing traces back to you. I don’t care about Karlov nearly enough to turn snitch for him.”

“So…” Jarad lowered the knife an inch. “You aren’t going to stop us?”

“Oh, goodness no. Please, steal whatever you like. Serves the old lecher right.” Teysa tapped the safe next to her with her cane. “Maybe take some of his cash while you’re at it. Treat each other to a nice meal or something and talk over whatever…well whatever this is.” She waved the cane between the two of them.

“Wh-what?” Jarad looked at Fonn. Their eyes met and they both looked away quickly. “What do you mean? We don’t even work together usually, this was just a one-time thing.”

Teysa rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say.” She tapped the screen. “Though I wasn’t aware bodyguards and spies got so touchy-feely just for fun.” She stood and started out the door, side-eyeing the both of them in turn. “You’ve got about three minutes. You never saw me here.”

The door _click_ -ed shut behind her, leaving them both flustered and avoiding each other’s eyes.

“W-well, it was nice to see you doing something good with your skills for once!” Fonn directed the comment at a paperweight on the desk.

“Yes, well…let me actually do the deed first.” Jarad stared determinedly at the papers, identifying the ones he needed to snatch. “And…um, full disclosure, there _was_ going to be another attempt on Bayul’s life. But, um…well I convinced the sisters to call it off. For good.”

“What? I mean…thank you, but…why?”

“I knew you’d never let me do it without a fight, and…um…well, naturally I didn’t want to embarrass you in a fight again.”

Fonn laughed and shoved him. “As if. Get your papers spy boy, I’m going to grab some cash.”

“Not very charitable of you, selesnyan.”

“It’s for an orphanage,” She shot back. “And for dinner. I think you _do_ owe me a meal after all.”


	5. All the Pastries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (College AU - same setting as the Coffee Shop story in Chapter 2)

 

 

“Psssst, Duck!”

Tawnos turned just in time for a crumpled piece of paper to bounce off of his nose. A few of the other students laughed at his nonplussed reaction. Ashnod winced internally. She’d meant to hit him on the shoulder, but he was sitting six rows ahead of her…

Professor Pashiri cleared her throat. “If the lovebirds among us could possibly spare their attention for another few minutes, I would just love to finish this lesson.”

Ashnod blushed. Why did that Tawnos have to sit so close to the front of the class? And why hadn’t that nerd picked up her note?

He at least waited by his desk once Pashiri ended the lecture. Ashnod had fully collected herself by then, and plopped down in the seat behind him, doing her very best cool-girl sprawl.

“Are you free Saturday?”

“I’m helping Urza at the shop.” Tawnos turned around in his chair to talk to her directly. The auditorium seats were definitely not designed for that, and he looked adorably awkward trying to fit his leg along the back of the chair. “He wants to test out delivery drones for the Café, so I’ll be pretty busy.”

“Busy cleaning coffee off of your customers?”

“Probably.”

Ashnod leaned back and put her boots up on the back of Tawnos’ chair. “Drones, huh? Does that mean you aren’t coming to visit me at my internship anymore, Duck?”

“I, uh…I doubt Kayla will actually want to use them outside the store itself.” Tawnos was trying to meet her eyes, but kept glancing at the soles of Ashnod’s shoes. “But Xantcha is taking over deliveries for the weekends, so…yeah. I won’t be free most of the day.”

“So you’re free that night. Perfect.” Ashnod unfolded the piece of paper to reveal a rough design for a dragon construct. “I need your help for a robotics club project.”

“What sort of project?”

Ashnod grinned. “We just got a new budget approved by Dean Tocasia. She wants us to build an animatronic of the school mascot for commencement.”

“Oh, cool!” Tawnos frowned. “Wait, how are you going to do that in time? Isn’t that half a month away?”

“Yeah, that’s why I need help.” She nudged his shoulder with her boot. “Are you in?”

“What about your roommate? Doesn’t she do that professionally?”

“Saheeli? I already asked her.” Ashnod crossed her arms. “She’s said she was busy. Had to go to a poetry reading or something like that.”

“For half a month?”

Ashnod shrugged. “She’s got it bad for one of the English majors. Probably won’t be free until May.” Ashnod held up her fingers and started counting off. “Jhoira can only help until May, and then she’s going on a study trip. Teferi inexplicably has the time to help but doesn’t have nearly enough technical expertise. Professor Karn said he can provide us with any equipment we need, but that it’s supposed to be a student-work project only.”

“Ah.”

“I mean, everyone can help out a little though! If we pull this off she’ll double the club budget for next year and we can buy all sorts of cool stuff for our next project!”

Tawnos pursed his lips. “That does sound fun…but I need to study for Professor Mairsil’s test after work on Saturday. Need to get my grade up or I’ll lose my scholarship.” He shrugged. “Sorry Ash. Maybe the week after?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ashnod managed a smile. “Uh, good luck with the drones.”

“Thanks. I’ll stop by the club workshop after my shift with some coffee.” He hopped over the edge of his seat and pecked Ashnod on the forehead. “Text me if you want any pastries or anything.”

She poked Tawnos in the side. “All the pastries. Say high to Xantcha for me, Duck.”

** ** **

Ashnod threw herself on the bed as soon as she got back to her dorm, burying her face in a loose pile of blankets, sweaters, and disarrayed sheets. She let out a muffled groan into the pile.

“Rough day?” Saheeli called from the closet.

Ashnod turned her face to look at her roommate. “Frustrating.” She frowned. “I thought your poetry thing wasn’t until tomorrow.

"I-I want to have something nice picked out!” Saheeli flushed. “Besides, this might be for something else.”

“Naaaaah.” Ashnod grinned and sat up on the bed. “This is definitely preparation for preening. What are you gonna wear?”

Saheeli stepped sheepishly out of the closet and gave a small spin. She was wearing uncharacteristically dark colors: an olive button-up, black jeans, and a designer hoodie that zipped up in the front. The bohemian-ness of it all was loudly offset by the gold filigree up the front of her boots.

“Huh, well I don’t actually know how poets dress but I guess that’s close to what I would have imagined.”

“Do I look _good_  though?”

“You always look good, this is just…off-brand for you.” Ashnod’s eyebrows shot up and a gleeful smile split her face. "Should I be asking _who_  you're going to see?”

Saheeli mumbled something under her breath.

“Sorry, who now?”

Huatli!“

Ashmod blinked. "Waaaiiit, the girl who’s always wearing those vaguely suggestive dinosaur t-shirts?”

“N-no!” Saheeli waved her hands in front of her chest. “I mean….well, maybe.” 

Ashnod rubbed her chin. “Yeah…the one who came to your tech talk on the quad last week, right? She’s definitely got her eye on you.”

“Um…what?” Saheeli was turning redder and redder shades of brown.

“Please, she was all over you, and the talk clearly wasn’t her thing.”

“She’s…she’s just really friendly.”

“Hmmm, let’s see if we can make her even friendlier.” Ashnod rolled off the bed and peeked into the closet. “Here.” She grabbed another hoodie, this one a crisp white, and cinched it around Saheeli’s waist, letting it drape down over her backside.

“Great, now I look like my mother,” Saheeli muttered.

“No, this is good, you look cool.” Ashnod stepped back to admire her work. Well, more of a her and Saheeli’s mother collaboration. “Huatli seems like a rugged type. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your, uh…toughness.”

Saheeli turned, considering the look in the mirror. “You’re being very helpful. What’s troubling you?”

Ashnod frowned. “Well, it sure feels stupid to say, but boy stuff.” She leaned up against her bad and sank to her knees “I want to spend more time with Tawnos but he’s been super busy since Kayla hired him. Now I only ever see him in class or whenever he’s delivering donuts or coffee to the Brotherhood Labs.”

“Did you ask him about the mascot thing?”

“Yeah; there’s just not any time between the shop and studying.”

Saheeli closed the closet door and squatted down next to Ashnod. “You could do go do your studying at the shop? Maybe just make googly eyes at him? I don’t know exactly what someone would want to do with a boy.”

“Nah, the job is important to him. I don’t want to distract him.”

“Well, that just leaves studying then.”

Ashnod tilted her head up to appraise her roommate. Huatli would _definitely_ be stuck on Saheeli after tomorrow night.

“You know, you might be on to something.”

** ** **

Ashnod arrived at the workshop the next afternoon with a sketch pad and a new set of charcoal to start schematics for the animatronic. She had settled herself at a desk and was halfway through designing the wing-joints when she heard a clatter from the storage closet.

“Tezzeret?” She stomped over to the door and pulled it open. “You better not be skulking around here again after last ti – oh….”

A small girl has sitting cross-legged in the middle of the storage space, playing with a glowing Powerstonetm battery. She was leaning up against a strange machine Ashnod did not recognize.

“Hey there, kiddo.” Ashnod loomed over the girl, hands, on her knees. “How’d you get in here?”

The girl smiled up at Ashnod. Her face was painted with several golden-brown butterflies. “I’m waiting for my friend. Are you waiting for someone?”

“Um…yeah, I guess so.” What is…Ashnod’s eyes went wide as she realized what the girl was sitting up against: a tall humanoid construct with several gun turrets where its head and shoulders should have been.

“Why…why don’t you come with me, kiddo.” Ashnod offered her hand. You can sit and draw with me until your friend gets here.”

The girl shrugged and took Ashnod’s hand. Ashnod gave her some spare sheets of paper and they sat together making drawings until late in the afternoon. The girl wouldn’t give Ashnod her name, but was otherwise very well behaved.

“What’s that you’re drawing?”

The girl held up a sheet of paper. She’d scrawled a surprisingly detailed figure of a tall, dark-skinned man in blue robes on it. “My friend Teferi! I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“Oh…he said he’d be here before it got too late.” Ashnod looked at the clock. “I’ll call him.”

“That’s okay.” The girl went back to her drawing. “I’m having fun!”

** ** **

  
“Ashnod?”

Her head popped up off the desk, trailing a thin string of drool. Luckily she’d moved her completed sketches out of the way before passing out on the work table.

“Hnnn…Duck?”

Tawnos was there, smiling down at her, and smelling like the most wonderful thing in the world. Ashnod reached her hands out, and he placed a tall cup of coffee in it.

“Hmmmm, boyfriend and caffeine delivery. What a time to be alive.” She looked around the rest of the room with a frown. Where was the girl? Had she imagined her? Had Teferi come by to pick her up?

“Hello to you too.” He kissed her hair. “Those sketches look great…I might have some spare drone pieces that you could use for the struts.”

“Sounds like Urza’s project went well.”

“Yeah…” Tawnos lifted another sheet to inspect it and caught sight of the other papers underneath, with class numbers written across the top. “What, um…what’s this?”

“I…thought we could study a bit together.” Ashnod patted the spot next to her on the workbench. “I put together my notes for the etherium and watersilver unit and I thought…if you needed to spend the night studying…maybe you could use some company?’

Tawnos smiled, and slid his backpack off onto the ground.

“Sounds perfect. And I brought us some study fuel as well.” He set a huge sack of donuts, eclairs, and muffins down on the table between them. “Will that be enough, you think?”

Ashnod pulled him down into her lap and pecked his cheek.

“For now.”


	6. Secret Names, Open Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (The Legions novel had maybe the worst paring in all of Magic. This chapter is not about that pairing, or even a canon pairing at all, but two characters who I wish had gotten involved...)

 

 

“Look out, sis. Jock approaching, twelve o’clock.”

Braids glanced over her shoulder, following Chainer’s finger. Sure enough, two rugby players were stomping up the steps of the bleachers from the field. One Braids knew from the University’s welcome flyer. Rugby team captain Pianna; A burly girl with long black hair tied up in a bun. The other one…

“You three know that loitering isn’t allowed up here, right?”

…the other one was a head taller, with broad shoulders and deep purple eyes that matched her hair. At the moment her face was pinched into its usual twist of adorable annoyance. 

“Uh, yeah, if you’re not a student.” Braids flipped her legs over the bleacher seat to face the other girl. “You knew _that_ , right, Akroma?” She flashed a grin at Chainer, who was sitting on her left, and Phage, who had barely looked up from her book the whole conversation.

Akroma put her hands on her hips. “You’re distracting. Go be goth somewhere else.”

Braids made a face of mock offense and pointed at Chainer. “Um, we’re punk, thank you very much.” She jabbed her thumb at Phage. “ _She’s_ goth. Keep it straight.”

_‘Cause I sure won’t_

“Besides,” Chainer added. “We’re not bothering anyone.”

“C’mon Akroma, let’s just leave them alone.” Pianna’s face was unreadable but her voice was insistent. “If they want to lounge around I’m sure we can just ignore them.”

“No, no, wait.” Braids grinned even wider and hopped up into a squat on the bleacher, so she was almost eye-level with Akroma, four steps below her. “Who is the big, bad sport star so distracted by? We’re not even here to watch you. We’re waiting on Chainer’s boy – I mean, Phage’s brother and the men’s team.“

"Good, then you can leave until it’s their turn to practice.”

“Why don’t _they_ have to leave?” Braids jabbed a finger at Akroma’s face, than at the rest of the bleachers. They were admittedly mostly empty, but there were two girls in dinosaur t-shirts studying by the commentator’s box, and a small girl (someone’s little sister?) in a white dress lying on one of the lower benches with sheets of paper scattered around her.

“ _That_ ’ _s_ a little girl, and _they_ are doing schoolwork-”

“Those dorks in the lizard shirts were making out like, five minutes ago, tops.”

“-and _you_ have been pointing and laughing at us since you got here.”

 _She saw you. Of course she did, you_ wanted _her to see you._

“Can I help it?” Braids shrugged and grinned. “They’re laughs of appreciation. You all look so darling in your little shorts and stripped polos.“ She started to do a mock strut in place-

-and her foot missed the bleacher.

Braids slipped, and toppled forward. She heard Chainer and Phage shout out, and next thing she knew, a pair of thick arms had wrapped themselves around her, and her cheek was flush against a bare, muscular shoulder.

**“ _…Nivea_ …”**

Even in her state of panic, the name rang through Braids’ head loud and clear. In a voice very different from the one she was used to having in her head. Her heartbeat was sending shocks through her chest.  

She dared a glance up at Akroma, who was still holding onto her tightly. Judging by the wide-eyed look of amazement on Akroma’s face, she had heard a name too…

“Th-thanks!” Braids pushed away, hands shaking. She collapsed back onto the bench, and suddenly found that she couldn’t meet Akroma’s eyes.

_What what what_

“Uh, sure.” Akroma’s voice sounded shakier. Still clear. L _ike a birdsong in the morning._

Braids shook her head, trying to get the thought out of her mind.

Pianna cleared her throat.

“Well? May we return to practice, perhaps?”

“Yeah.” Akroma took a step back. “Just, um…just…you three don’t cause any trouble while you’re here.”

“I’m literally minding my own business!” Phage called down at their retreating backs, waving her book.

“Are you okay?” Chainer put a hand on Braids’ back. “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

Braids patted her little-brother’s hand. “I’m…I’m good.” She managed a shaky smile.

_What what what what what what what what what no WAY_

** ** **

Braids spent most of the next week in a surreal state of agitation. She zoned out in all her classes, missed the Dementia Casting majors social, and lay awake for three nights straight, just listening to her roommate snore.

_Is this a dream?_

Her psych TA announced the end of lecture and Braids stumbled out into the hallway, head buzzing.

 _We went to high school with Akroma for_ four years. _How did we never touch that whole time? I’m sure we brushed hands in the hallway at least once. Didn’t she pat my shoulder once when we were lab partners? She was actually pretty nice back then, before she became a total meat-head. How did we not touch? There was definitely a touch…_

She wandered down the hall, bumping into shoulders without noticing.

_You goof. You’re definitely imaging all that._ _It was a crush you thought about too much_

She wandered out the psych hall and across the green, in such a daze that she ran head-first into a strange, soft wall that smelled like fruit.

“Hey… we need to talk.”

Braids blinked. _A_ _talking wall?_

She looked up, and found Akroma looking right back down.

“Are…you okay? You look like you got hit in the head.”

“I-I’m fine!” Braids shook her head and grinned. “Watch where you’re walking, giant.” She started to walk away.

 _Better insults, Braids_.

“Wait!” Akroma followed after her. “Seriously, I want to talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

_Just talk to her! Don’t you want this?_

Her whole body felt hot. Better to run. Just run. That was easier.

“Fulla!”

Braids turned around at the sound of her secret name, blushing furiously. She looked around, but no one else had noticed. Of course, no one else could hear her secret name except for her-

-and her soulmate.

“You heard it, right?” Akroma had a letter jacket and a sports top on, which “You heard…heard my…”

“Yeah, I heard it.” Braids struggled to raise her eyes up to look at Akroma’s face. It _really_ didn’t help that she looked so… _good_. “So what? I fins out the one person the universe wants me to be with, and now I get to watch them from a distance for the next three years?”

“Braids-”

“I can’t live through high school a second time. I had the voices in my head under control, and now there’s a new one telling me that I should go back to pining after someone who barely knows I exist.”

“I…I know you exist!” Akroma spread her arms in exasperation. The jacket hung off her arms like a pair of wings. “, I mean, I knew you existed than, too. All that crap in high school? I was a dumb-ass kid. I’m _still_ a dumb-ass kid. I ignored you because I wanted to be cool, but…but this is _different_. I’ve been in love with you since we were juniors.”

“In _love_? You…you don’t even _like_ me!” _That_ people could hear. “We hadn’t talked in what? Over a year before last weekend?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Akroma was about two paces away, and all that Braids could see.

_Like an eclipse. Beautiful, but devastating to look at._

“I’ve been a jerk to you. We…we were never close and I treated you badly after we graduated.” Akroma’s arms fell to her side. “But…one person out of what? five-hundred thousand will ever get to meet their soulmate. I can’t just…ignore that. I always thought it was a bunch of crap but…”

“This doesn’t even make any sense. How have we known about each other for that long and never heard each other’s secret names?” Four years and not _one_ instance of skin-to-skin contact.“ Braids’ voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you know how badly I wanted to grab your hand in high school? I thought about it so much I convinced myself I had and that just hurt more because it meant I _knew_ we weren’t soulmates. Then Chainer went and met his the first day of college and I had to convince myself all over again to stop thinking about you all the time. _Then_ I have to go with him to watch his soulmate and of course I do because he’s my brother and I love him but now I all I can do is crack jokes to keep myself from just staring at you and wanting you. And now we finally touch for real and we've been soulmates all along? Just like that? Do you notice me? Really? Or am I just a distraction you don’t know what to do with now?”

Akroma started to take a step forward, then stopped.

“I notice you.” Her voice was quieter now. “I can’t _help_ but notice you. Before the name, before college. I love that wild way you smile when you’re happy. I love those stories you and your brother used to post in the school newspaper.” She licked her lips. “Do you…do you remember Prom? You were dancing in that dress you made out of sketches of….of monsters and all those wonderful creatures from your stories, and they came off all over the dance floor and outside the gym-” Akroma reached into her bag and took out a small notebook, stuffed with loose sheets of paper. “I…I may have kept some of them…”

Braids stared at the binder. She recognized the corners that stuck out. The hydra that she’d made in Mr. Skellum’s class. The snakes that she’d modeled after real, squirming ones that Chainer had captured…

“You…you spent prom picking up my sketches?” She let out a small laugh. “You…you dork!”

Akroma flushed and pulled the notebook back to her chest. “I thought…I thought if I had this I could keep my distance. If I had what I loved about you I wouldn’t be distracted from the team, but then you started showing up at the end of practice…” She looked around the green. A few people were giving the two of them curious looks, but most were just passing them by. “I love you. I’ll tell you that now. I’ll shout it to the whole campus if you want…just…just tell me what you want. Even if it’s to leave you alone, just…please tell me.”

Braids stood shock-still for a moment, wondering just how red she looked to the other students just then.

 _This angel’s as batty as I am_. Somehow the thought made her smile. _Really_ smile.

“Okay, we’re soulmates.” She crossed her arms. “I’m game. And _obviously_ you’re obsessed with me. What’ve you got to offer?”

_Don’t jump into her arms don’t jump into her arms don’t jump into her strong, thick arms…_

“I…look I don’t know what you’ve been up to since high school, but I’d like to find out. I don’t know if this is your scene-“ Akroma reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a flyer. "There’s this place downtown…Club Aphetto? It looked…punk-ish? Punk adjacent? I got tickets for a Blightsteel concert they’re having Saturday night. If…if you’re interested.”

Braids stared at the flyer, then burst out laughing. A good, honest gut-laugh like she hadn’t had in days.

“Is…is that no good?” Akroma looked a bit confused, almost sad. “If there’s something else. I mean, or if you don’t want to-”

Braids let her laugh subside to her usual grin, and took the the flyer out of Akroma’s hands. She looked it over, peeking over the top at Akroma’s anxious face, then kissed the corner of it, leaving the black imprint of her lips on the paper.

“Pick me up at six, _Nivea_.” Braids walked past Akroma, enjoying the adorable mix of joy, confusion, and embarrassment on the tall girl’s face.

** ** **

Three weeks later

** ** **

It wasn’t the first Rugby match Braids had ever gone to. Chainer dragged her along to watch Kamahl play at least once a month.

The girl’s games were way more entertaining. More elbows thrown. More aggressive play. More scraped knees and spitting and swearing.

More girls.

She cheered with the rest of the crowd as the half came to an end with a stunning tackle by Pianna, that let Akroma bull through two more girls for a score. Braids hadn’t shed any of her usual leather, but she had added a sash with the school’s colors under her jacket, with a certain secret name stitched on the inside, next to her heart.

The players started filing away to the locker room for the half. Braids was about to settle in to scroll through her phone for the duration when someone shouted.

She looked up in time to see Akroma jump and mount the railing onto the bleachers. Her cleats stamped noisily on the metal, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd and the shouts of her coach behind her.

Her eyes were locked on Braids. Braids felt her face grow unnaturally hot.

“Enjoying the righteous beatdown?” Akroma leaned down and ran a hand down a lock of Braids’ hair.

“I like watching a pro at work.” Braids grinned and reached up to take her girlfriend’s hand. “Sure I’m not too much of a distraction?”

Akroma took the hand and pulled her up to her feet. Then the taste of grapes filled her mouth as Akroma pried open Braids’ lips with her own.

They wrestled there a moment, mouths entangling. _Like eldritch tendrils in cosmic combat_. When they parted, Braids only had enough air in her lungs for a weak gasp.

Akroma bent her head low next to Braids ear. “Just enough distraction for me.“

Then she was sprinting back down the steps to join the team, leaving her girlfriend a flustered, joyful, delirious mess.


	7. Better Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Note for any of the confused ('cause it can be confusing) Nivea =/= Akroma here)

 

 

Nivea hated the city. The grime. Neon flashing at you everywhere from the rooftops to the alleyway. The constant sensation of being watched. By the law. By advertisers. By the millions of Cabal and Order busybodies who had nothing better to do.

But these days, where else could you go?

“Nice! High score!”

She hated the city, but always found her way back to the arcades, which were arguably just a concentration of everything irritating thing about city life. Every surface was either a flashing light or a control panel filthy from the touch of a thousand different hands. It was noisy and bright.

And a great place to make quick cash.

“Alright, pay up.” She spun around on the stool, holding out her baseball cap. The line of gamers behind her grumbled, but forked over the credits they’d wagered on the game. Her opponent had to pay three times that, but he at least seemed impressed with her win.

“That was awesome! Do you think you could give me some pointers? I’ve been trying my hand at modding for the last year or so but I can’t seem to get my timing right in the actual game.”

Nivea scooped up the credits and stuffed them into her cyberlock satchel before looking her opponent over. He was dressed like all the other gamer punks, with his vest and a Dreamchiseltm controller strapped to his hip, but his eyes seemed bright and earnest.

“Sure. Once I take care of the rest of these scrubs.”

“Thanks!” He bounced back to the side while the next challenger plugged their controller into the console. “Um…I’m Ixidor, by the way.” His smile was broad but nervous, like a puppy.

“Nivea.”

** ** **

Nivea trudged up the narrow flight of steps to her apartment. Flyers were plastered layers deep on the matrix-embedded concrete stairwell. Ads for movies, medications, and other useless junk. Even here, right outside where she lived, Nivea couldn’t escape the intrusion of the city.

“Just one more flight,” she muttered to herself. “One more flight and you’ll be home.”

She powered up the last stairwell and shoved a key into her door. Most of the neighbors had switched to digital card locks, but for Security Nivea didn’t trust anything electronic.

Ixidor was sitting in the middle of the living room, fiddling with some new device that he’d plugged his Dreamchiseltm into. He had his headphones on, but still turned and smiled when Nivea came in.

She crouched down and wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his back a moment. “Hmmm. Missed you.”

He reached back and patted the side of her head. “How was your day?”

Nivea sat down next to Ixidor and made a face. “Lousy. Slow day at the arcade, and there wasn’t anyone at the pit cafes to grift.” She patted her satchel. “I did swipe us some nutrient cylinders though, so, silver linings.”

Ixidor reached out and caressed her face. “Urban headache day?”

“Aren’t they all?” Nivea looked around the room. Ixidor had folded all the furniture up into the walls, even the bench they usually ate at together. There were four tall devices mounted in each corner of the room, with wires that Ixidor had stapled up the sides of the wall and to the center, of the ceiling, where he’d suspended a chrome hemisphere.

“Hey babe, what’s up with the new tech?”

“A salvage project I’m finishing just now.” Ixidor gave her a mischievous grin. “Pretty cool, huh? I cobbled together the VR ports from pieces my boss was gonna throw out. Here, stand up, I think you’ll like this.”

He punched a few more commands into the tablet by his side, and stood up. “What do you miss most living here? The beach? The mountains?”

Nivea pursed her lips, thinking.

“The spring.”

Ixidor smiled, and adjusted the dials on his Dreamchiseltm. The VR ports in the corners of the room lit up, and light started pouring out of them.

No, not light; solid color.

Nivea balanced herself against Ixidor’s arm as the whole room flowed out of sight, covered by a lush forest clearing. The greys gave way to soft, brilliant shades of green, studded with the pastel colors of budding flowers.

It was more than just a hologram. A slight wind from somewhere brushed along Nivea’s bare arms and neck. The sweet smell of dirt and vegetation filled her nostrils.

“Ixidor…what…?”

“I got the idea from the enhancements you rigged to get away from the street patrols.” Ixidor was beaming, spinning around in place while he talked. “That one that creates a molecular stasis field so they think they’ve grabbed a hold of you while in reality the real you is already three feet ahead of them and they’re tangling with thin air. It was such a good design and with the right schematics to model the molecular alteration fields to, I think we can create a convincing copy of just about anything!”

“That…that’s amazing.”

He bowed. “I learned from the very best.”

“Ixidor, the things we could do with this…” Nivea walked to the nearest tree and lay a hand on it. The molecular stasis field was indistinguishable from real bark to touch alone. The lighting from the sun was perfect, and even had a faint warmth to it.

“Well, the most important thing I could think to do with it was to show the coolest girl in the world how much I think she deserves.”

Nivea rolled her eyes. “Flatterer.”

“Truth-teller.”

“Whatever.” She put her arms around his shoulders and they spun together in place, silently, taking in the artificial forest.

“Oh, and hang on, there’s also a whole menu system if you want to try a different setting…ummm…here!” Ixidor clicked the handle of his Dreamchiseltm and the gems glowed a warm yellow.

“Hi!”

A small girl in a white dress was suddenly standing in front of them, holding something that looked suspiciously like a rugby ball under one arm. She waved at them.

“I’m your Automated Menu and Interactive Navigation Autonomous Terraforming Omniflex Unit!”

“Huh…I don’t remember programming it quite like that…” Ixidor turned the Dreamchiseltm over in his hand. “I…might need your help with some of the troubleshooting.”

“She’s fine for now.” Nivea slid her arms off of his Ixidor and crouched down in front of the girl-guide. “Could you take us to…hmmm…a meadow, maybe? Somewhere with open skies.”

The girl conjured a white branch and swept it over her head. A single butterfly fluttered out and expanded outward, covering the forest with a new scene: golden-green grasses fluxed under a brisk wind. The sky overhead was a deep, endless blue, dotted with squat clouds that puffed along slowly overhead.

Nivea closed her eyes. Even without looking at the scene. It _felt_ like she was in a field, a hundred miles away from anything even remotely mechanical.

“So…a promising contraption?”

Nivea felt for Ixidor’s hand and pulled him closer. “Mmmm, lots of potential. And a nice place for a picnic, don’t you think? A.M.I.N.A.T.O.U., could you help me retrieve my groceries?”

Another wave of the stick, another butterfly, and part of the virtual meadow opened up to show where Nivea had set down her pilfered food.

“And something to sit on, maybe?”

The girl-guide was sprawled on a soft blue blanket before Nivea even finished speaking.

“Very promising, babe.” She hefted the grocery bag and winked. “How does a nutrition cylinder sound?”

“Here, with you?” Ixidor swept Nivea off her feet and carried her over to the blanket. She grinned up at him. “Absolutely perfect.”


	8. Pirates and...You Know...

 

Captain Anafenza loved that first leap into battle. The sturdy wood of the railing beneath her gloved palm as she vaulted over the side of the ship. The sea-breeze accelerated by the rush of the jump. The solid stomp onto the planks of a dock or enemy ship.

Villagers fled their boats and ran inland, scrambling over the beaches and the docks. A few of the braver ones watched from a distance. Old folk too slow to flee. A strange girl in white peeking out from under a blanket on one of the rowboats. Anafenza ignored them all. The real prize was something much sweeter than mindless plunder.

“Alright you Abzan slags! Make me proud!”

A roar and a cheer went up from her crew as they disembarked behind her and charged up to the pier toward the seaside monastery. A monastery which, if their latest treasure map was to be believed, held a vast fortune, the likes of which few pirates had ever known.

Which would explain all the Jeskai ninja pouring out of the monastery doors to stop them.

Anafenza roared and sprinted up the steps to the monastery gate, clocking the first ninja she encountered in the head with the hilt of her cutlass. She weaved past the spinning kicks of two more and delivered a devastating kick of her own right into the gut of a large djinn-monk-ninja.

The rest of her crew followed close behind, and soon they had a proper brawl underway.

“Keep them busy, crew, I’m headed up!” Anafenza dodged a wild staff-strike and unfurled a grappling line from around her waist. Several of her orc and ainok crewmembers formed a small ring around her to hold off the ninja, and she hurled the hook up onto the roof.

More of the Jeskai ninja greeted her on the roof, swords drawn. The foremost among them was a cocky-looking human, who took a swipe at Anafenza’s legs, no doubt hoping to unbalance her.

She leapt over the blow and kicked him backwards into one of the windows before her boots touched the tiles again.

Never underestimate a pirate’s sea-legs.

Anafenza thrust the tip of her cutlass into the roof and used the hilt as an impromptu springboard to jump up to the next level of roofing. Two of the ninja leapt up after her, but she managed to loop her grappling line around their ankles and knock one off the edge, occupying both of the Jeskai for the next minute or so.

Then she drew a knife and jumped through the nearest window.

“Avast! Throw down your arms and surrender your riches or taste pirate steel!”

Anafenza blinked and looked around. The room was bare save for four wide windows and dozens of shelves, lined with books. In the center of the room a woman sat cross-legged, orange and blue robes draped over her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, but as soon as Anafenza took a step toward her, a blue eye flashed across the woman’s forehead.

An eye that marked the woman as dangerous in the same way that Anafenza’s scale tattoo did.

“Oh good,” The Jeskai ninja grandmaster opened her eyes and smiled. “I was worried that I wouldn’t get to do anything at all today.”

Then, in a blink, she was on her feet and twirling a bladed staff. Anafenza drew a pistol from her belt and fired, but the bullet bounced off the staff and struck the floor. The grandmaster leapt, and the jump took her at least ten feet off the floor.

Anafenza dodged out of the way as the staff came down hard and cracked the floor. She swiped with her knife and the grandmaster stepped out of the way, entangling Anafenza’s legs with another strike and flipping her onto the ground.

Anafenza rolled with the blow and popped up again on her feet, close to the wall.

“Not bad, ninja.” She held up a length of blue sash. “But you should always watch a pirate’s hands.”

The grandmaster looked down at her robes, now hanging open to reveal the tunic underneath. A faint tinge of pink appeared on her cheeks, but she was still smiling.

“I could say the same. Very powerful legs you’ve got, by the way.” The grandmaster lifted up something curved and silvery.

Anafenza’s flask.

Anafenza patted at her hip, now bare, as the grandmaster continued to smirk. Then, keeping an eye on Anafenza, she uncorked the flask and took a long, uninterrupted pull from it.

A full minute long, in fact. Anafenza could only stare, her heart pounding. That was the strongest Mardu-liquor that money could buy.

“Pirate swill. Do you cut that stuff with seawater?” The grandmaster threw the flask out the window. “Oh, and thank you for taking an interest in my robes. I don’t get to do a lot of romancing here in the monastery, but I believe it’s customary to ask a woman’s name before you try and disrobe her.” She threw her staff up into the air and whipped the ropes off entirely. “It’s Narset, by the way.”

Anafenza grinned. “A lady’s name is always a nice addition to the plunder. And her garb.”

“Well, you’re welcome to them.” With a snap, Narset cast the robes at Anafenza’s face, obscuring the grandmaster from view.

Anafenza swiped the robe in two with a flash of her knife. The cloth fell to the floor on either side of her, but the grandmaster was gone.

Then Narset was on top of Anafenza, dropping down on her shoulders from above. They crashed to the floor together, and the grandmaster stripped Anafenza’s knife away. Anafenza managed to wrap the sash around Narset and trap her left arm, but got her own arm caught and shoved up against the wall for her trouble.

They grappled with each other in place for several seconds, quiet except for their own grunts and the sounds of battle outside by the sea. Their arms were entangled, their weapons on the floor, and their faces mere inches from each other.

“I never did get _your_ name,” Narset said through gritted teeth. “It seems only fair…”

“Anafenza.” She said it without really thinking. It was _really_ quite difficult to focus on fighting when you had such a face right next to yours, lovely as a relief carved out of gold. She reached for her belt and drew another pistol, but couldn’t point it anywhere except for the bookshelves.

“No!”

Narset let go of Anafenza’s knife-hand and knocked the pistol barrel up toward the roof. The bullet left a sizeable hole in the wood. Anafenza took the opportunity to loop the sash around Narset’s other wrist and bind her hands together. Narset still managed to get her arms around Anafenza’s neck ad pull her down to the ground.

“Those are our sacred treasures!” Narset’s voice sounded higher now, more urgent. “I won’t let you harm them!”

“Who cares about…wait…” Anafenza flipped over, pinning Narset with a knee on her thigh. “What did you call them?”

“Our sacred treasure of knowledge! These books hold the greatest secrets of the world and the multiverse!” Narset pulled Anafenza’s head down further, so that the pirate captain could not stand. “Our sacred duty to protect for centuries!”

Anafenza rolled sideways, disentangling from Narset. They both lay on the floor for a full minute, breathing heavily.

“That’s it? Books? No gold or jewels or anything like that?”

“Of course not. Knowledge is the ultimate treasure.”

Anafenza groaned and stumbled toward the window. Narset stood and followed her.

“Fight’s off!” Anafenza’s voice carried down to the fighters below, and they all stopped to stare up at her and Narset.“It’s another metaphorical treasure!”

Groans of disappointment from her crew mixed with sighs of relief from the battered ninja.

Anafenza leaned up against the windowsill, massaging her bruised arms. “Well, that’s another month of sailing wasted,.”

“Here, let me.” Narset took Anafenza’s hand in her own and ran her palm along the pirate captain’s bare upper arm. The ache eased by degrees.

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you and your crew any riches, captain.” Narset took Anafenza’s other arm and started to caress it. Quick, soft touches that felt better than a dip in a hot bath. “But you are welcome to join us in the village this evening. The townsfolk have a grand alehouse that they’re very proud of, and I daresay it serves a stronger drink than what you’re used to.” She smiled and nodded her head toward the window.

Anafenza let out a slow breath, and looked Narset over. The grandmaster’s eyes darted all over the place, not quite meeting her own gaze, but tracing all over Anafenza’s clothes and weapon. She considered the grandmaster. A strong face, cheeks like a cutlass’ edge, and hair like the midnight sea.

“Well, it’s not gold, but…yeah, that’ll do for now.”


End file.
